


boom crash

by loafers



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), All Time Low
Genre: F/M, M/M, Open Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-01 09:52:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5201495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loafers/pseuds/loafers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Given all the super gay twitter flirting Ashton’s witnessed and the even superer gay live action flirting Ashton can’t get a moment’s peace from, he really expected the member of his band to be in the position he currently finds himself to be literally anyone except him. Most likely Michael. With Jack. But it’s Rian that’s leaning close in the back lounge of the bus, his strong hand warm on Ashton’s thigh through his jeans, breathing beer scented breath against Ashton’s cheek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i'm doing what i said i'd never do and posting a chaptered wip. it'll be a fun experiment ^_^

Given all the super gay twitter flirting Ashton’s witnessed and the even superer gay live action flirting Ashton can’t get a moment’s peace from, he really expected the member of his band to be in the position he currently finds himself to be literally anyone except him. Most likely Michael. With Jack. But it’s Rian that’s leaning close in the back lounge of the bus, his strong hand warm on Ashton’s thigh through his jeans, breathing beer scented breath against Ashton’s cheek. 

Ashton’s not leaning away. He’s breathing his own beer scented breath right back in Rian’s face, which is close, and so nice. He’s a handsome guy. Ashton wants to tell him. It’s good to tell people they’re hot, it’s good to make people feel good. Those are things Ashton tries to live by. Positivity. Hotness. Beer breath. 

It’s not like Ashton’s assuming this situation he’s in is a gay hookup kind of situation, except he should probably, because then Rian leans in and kisses him. 

It’s a soft kiss, a gentle press of Rian’s warm mouth against Ashton’s own, but there’s some firmness there too, an undeniable purposefulness in the pressure behind it. Ashton’s eyes slip closed as his head spins with how nice it feels, both to be kissing someone, and to be kissing Rian specifically. He _is_ a little drunk, the kind of drunk where his mind seems three steps behind his body, too caught up in the general pleasantness of everything. He’s only barely beginning to return to kiss when Rian pulls back, his hand on Ashton’s shoulder. 

He breathes out and Ashton opens his eyes, blinks at him. “Am I reading this wrong, or?” He asks, his voice deeper than usual, low and murmuring. 

Rian’s mouth is such a nice pink now that Ashton’s paying attention to it, and so soft. Ashton licks his lips. “Huh?” he says, dazed.

Rian’s nice mouth breaks into an even nicer smile, all eye crinkles and straight, white teeth. “How drunk are you?”

“Not that drunk,” Ashton says indignantly. 

Rian places his hand on Ashton’s face, threading his fingers into his hair, pushing it back - a gesture that feels so intimate it makes Ashton blush. “Kind of out of it though,” he says gently. It’s strange to be touched like that, by someone with big, stick-worn hands so similar to his own. “I kissed you, remember?” Rian reminds him, already leaning in again.

Honestly, Ashton doesn’t need the reminder. It’s pretty fresh in his mind. “Yeah,” he says, finding himself a little breathless with anticipation, maybe. He blinks, and again, doesn’t back off when Rian pauses a breath from pressing his lips against his again. Ashton feels a pull in his chest and throat, the urge, the want to close that distance. To kiss Rian again. “I liked it, it’s okay,” Ashton’s saying clumsily, surprising himself. 

It’s the right thing, though, maybe. Rian looks pleased at least, his face close and warm. “Good,” he says.

Rian’s grip slips to the back of Ashton’s head, cupping the base of his skull, holding him close as he kisses him again. Ashton leans into him, tipping his mouth up to Rian’s for it. 

It’s soft and warm and nice. Ashton’s missed it, kissing; the feeling and the closeness, the stillness of another person sharing a touch. Ashton hasn’t kissed anyone in a while and finds himself feeling now starved for it, startled by the urgency building in him to feel Rian’s body pressed against his own, the eagerness with which he leans into kiss after kiss. 

Rian’s stubble rasps against Ashton’s own rough jaw, a sharp contrast to the soft, hot slide of their mouths. It’s not awful, and neither is the way Rian uses his hand in Ashton’s hair to subtly direct him, angle his jaw just slightly. Rian licks at Ashton’s lip and Ashton shudders, tilts his body up, hand fisting on Rian’s shoulder to pull him in closer until he’s being pressed into the back of the couch, the weight of Rian’s body heavier than Ashton’s used to on top of him. 

Ashton’s pulse pounds in his ears as he gasps against Rian’s mouth, lips parting and then Rian’s tongue is in his mouth and his hand is at his waist, pushing up under his t-shirt, warm and rough on Ashton’s skin. 

Ashton’s big enough, he can hold his own, muscles honed by years and years at his kit, but he feels weak under Rian’s hands. Feels small and strange and it’s not bad but it’s different, different enough to trip up Ashton’s brain, catching over and over on the unfamiliarity; a broad chest and a strong, stubbled jaw, the buzz of Rian’s short hair against his fingertips.

Ashton can’t avoid it any longer, not even with the booze in his system, not even with how fucking amazing a kisser Rian is. Maybe he’s sobering up but all he can think about are those differences, everything that makes it so obvious that Rian’s a guy and Ashton’s kissing him and Ashton’s never kissed a guy before, no matter how much he likes Rian and, wait. 

Shit. 

Ashton’s gut drops and he wrenches his mouth away from Rian’s. “You - you have a girlfriend,” he gasps. 

Confusion crosses Rian’s face, which makes it the both of them feeling just as confused. It’s confusing how betrayed Ashton feels by Rian specifically. The disappointment only builds as the seconds between them draw longer. It feels like being let down, which makes sense. It’s what they always say - don’t meet your heroes, lest they turn out ordinary dudes trying to cheat on their girlfriends like every other dirtbag. 

“I do,” Rian says calmly after a beat, as if it’s reasonable to go around kissing other people when you’re in a relationship. Like it’s not a big deal that he just took Ashton’s gay kiss virginity, and Ashton’s mouth isn’t still burning with it, body isn’t humming for more. “But it’s not what you think.”

“What? You broke up?” Ashton asks, judgement clear enough in the tone of his voice to make Rian recoil a bit, hold his hand up in defense.

“No - listen. She’s cool with it,” is what Rian says. Ashton just looks at him but it’s clear that he understands Ashton’s not so easily reassured. No matter how nice kissing Rian feels and no matter how bad Ashton wants Rian to touch him again, despite what the implications of wanting and enjoying such things might mean for Ashton’s sexual identity (Is hot drummer-sexual a thing? Or is it just narcissim? And, which is worse?), Ashton’s no home-wrecker. 

“No, really. We’ve been together a long time. This is what works for us,” Rian says earnestly, and then looks away from Ashton’s eyes, down at his hands, seeming bashful, all of a sudden. “Well, in theory. I’ve never actually… you’re the first person I’ve actually wanted to, uh.” 

The same bashfulness steals over Ashton, his cheeks heating. He’s not sure if he could say the words either, from embarrassment or guilt. It’s not going to happen anyway. Rian has a girlfriend. “I don’t… I’m not, I’m straight,” Ashton says clumsily. He could definitely use reminding. 

Rian smiles but it’s less confident than it could be. “So am I. Mostly.”

They’re on the same page, then, which is reassuring. Ashton slumps heavily back on the couch and rubs his restless hands on his knees. He turns his head to the side and catches Rian eyeing the spread of his thighs. There’s hunger there, and it stirs something in Ashton, just under his ribs, a familiar reckless urge to disregard everything in the quenching of it, the same feeling that’s got him in trouble plenty in his younger years. He breathes out, long and heavy, and watches Rian’s eyes drag back up to his face, and hates every fiber of how well his mother raised him. 

Want beats obvious and obscene between them for a long, still moment, until, “You’re right,” Rian says, and shakes his head as if to clear it. “Sorry, man,” he slaps Ashton’s thigh, and presses down on it to push himself up off the couch. He stretches, arms raised, his muscles bunching under the thin fabric of his t-shirt as he twists to crack his spine. “It’s late, I’m drunk, it’s a dumb idea. We cool?”

“Yeah,” Ashton says, his mouth dustbowl dry. Rian drops his head and rubs at the back of his neck, turning to look at Ashton. He looks rueful, embarrassed, and Ashton feels sorry.


	2. Chapter 2

Touring with All Time Low is everything Ashton thought it would be, that is; total chaos, and a really fucking good time. It reminds Ashton of Harry’s tenth birthday party when he insisted on inviting his entire class over for a party, except it’s Jack and Michael running around on Jack Daniels instead of 25 nine to ten year olds buzzed off red cordial, and it’s Rian trying to help him maintain some kind of order or at least a modicum of mindfulness of personal safety rather than his mum. 

Rian’s much more chill than he ever manages to be though, which is something Rian shares in common with Ash’s mum. Rian watches their bands’ antics from the couch across from the one Ashton sits on, his feet kicked up on the coffee table and a drink in his hand and really, _really_ , Ashton needs to stop comparing Rian to his _mother_ , even though it’s kind of uncanny the way he shakes his head and takes another sip. Or maybe he shouldn’t, because so far, the similarities haven’t made Ashton any less distracted by the muscles under the sleeves of Rian’s t-shirt, or the memory of what Rian’s stubble felt like against his skin. 

“So, your girlfriend,” Ashton says, leaning forward. Rian raises an eyebrow at him, pausing, the lip of his cup poised at his mouth.

“Cassadee,” he says. Ashton knows her name. Ashton can totally say it without feeling like the worst person in the world for wanting. 

“Cassadee,” Ashton repeats. Rian slowly tips up and drains his cup in one long swallow, and then slips his feet off the coffee table and plants them on the floor. He sits forward, giving Ashton his full attention. That’s something Ashton appreciates in a person; listening skills.

“What about her?” 

“She really doesn’t care?” Ashton asks, totally incapable of meeting Rian’s steady gaze, too busy casting sidelong glances at his rambunctious bandmates, fearful of being overheard. “Like, you can just mess around with anyone and she doesn’t care?” 

“I don’t mess around with just anyone,” Rian says, sounding a tiny bit offended but way less than he probably should.

“No, I know. Sorry. That’s not what I mean. Shit.” Ashton rolls his eyes at himself, slumps back against the couch and covers his face with a groan. Rian makes him feel like he doesn’t want to mess up, and like he could too easily. Makes him feel like he’s making an idiot out of himself all the fucking time. 

Rian laughs, and then he’s switching couches, dropping down beside Ashton. The warmth of his body pressed against Ashton’s side, thigh to thigh and shoulder to shoulder, settles him. He lets his hands drop back into his lap and turns to look at Rian, who smiles, and nudges him gently with his elbow. 

“I told her about you,” he says quietly, keeping Ashton’s gaze.

“Yeah?” Ashton asks, skin prickling at the thought of it, embarrassment and pride at war in Ashton’s chest and a blush triumphing over all, rising in his cheeks as Rian just keeps looking at him, close and even. 

“I told her about how - I tried to kiss you,” Rian looks away for a second and Ashton’s heart pounds, his mouth feels dry. Rian’s smile turns fonder as he meets Ashton’s eyes again. “I did kiss you.” Ashton swallows. “I told her how you made me stop, that you wouldn’t let me cause you think I’m cheating on her.” 

“You are,” Ashton says. “I mean, technically.” 

Rian shakes his head patiently. Something crashes to the floor across the room and Ashton looks over to see Jack and Alex sprawled under a toppled clothes rack. Ashton might have some idea of how Rian got to be so patient. Michael is throwing fruit at them. In the spirit of trying, Ashton bites down on the urge to yell at him to stop.

“I know it’s - unconventional. But it’s not like that,” Rian says. “She likes you. She thinks it’s cute you’re worried, that you’re obviously a good guy. Like, no shit.” 

Ashton finds himself smiling and can’t make himself stop. It’s a stupid, fond, warm-belly smile. He wants to hide his face, ideally in Rian’s neck. “Oh god,” Ashton says, and allows himself to knock his forehead against Rian’s shoulder.

Rian laughs, the sound so close Ashton feels it more than hears it. He pats Ashton’s thigh, palm lingering a little longer than is just friendly, long enough to fill Ashton’s head with ideas about what it’d feel like to let Rian touch him, what it’d be like to get jerked off by a guy. 

Ashton straightens up and Rian takes his hand off him just in time for Calum to land heavily in their laps. It’s gonna be awkward if he feels that Ashton’s chubbed up a little, but no more than all the other times. This fucking band. This fucking tour. 

“They want you for soundcheck,” Calum says, all crinkly-eyed smiling upside-down up at Rian from his lap. He looks so happy that it’s hard to be annoyed with him, even when his pointy fucking knee knocks Ashton in the jaw. Rian pets Calum’s curly head like he’s a dog. 

“I better go soundcheck then,” Rian says, raising his eyebrows at Ashton like an apology. Ashton flaps his hand at him and feels stupid about it. Rian slips out from under Calum and tells Ashton, “Talk later,” and squeezes the back of Ashton’s neck as he passes. It makes every hair on Ashton’s arms stand on end. 

Calum looks at him strangely, and then tries to hook his legs around Ashton’s neck to choke him with his thighs. 

One leg hooked over Ashton’s shoulder, he giggles like an evil gremlin as he tries to get the other one up. Ashton hunches his chin down into his chest and punches Calum in the thigh as best he can while trying to watch Rian exit the room.

It feels like unfinished business. 

“You’re so - fucking - annoying,” Ashton grunts, grappling with Calum’s clingy thighs. Calum just laughs gleefully, even though Ashton manages to wedge free and get him pinned, crushing Calum’s thighs against his chest under the weight of his body. That is, until Luke and Michael stage a rare allied assault, and with a cry, Ashton goes down. 

…

Later, when All Time Low swap out for 5SOS to soundcheck, Rian lingers side of stage, watching chatting with the techs. It makes Ashton feel hot and nervous, so he hits his drums harder, and lets his hair fall in his eyes in an attempt to make it less obvious he can’t stop looking Rian’s way. He hopes Rian isn’t planning on watching during their actual set. 

It’s only the beginning of the tour for christ’s sake. Maybe Ashton will have to have sex with him, just so he doesn’t die from all the tension, or put holes through all his drums.

It’s a weird feeling, wanting to be as close to and as far away as possible from him at the same time. Rian has a girlfriend, and Ashton is straight, but it’s been so long since Ashton has felt this attracted to someone. 

It’s also a super bad idea to hook up with a workmate, especially one in another band. Ashton learned as much from Michael, who had to learn it the hard way. Wouldn’t this be different, though? Rian’s older, they’re all older. Ashton’s no teenager dickmatized by a charming British popstar. 

Ashton slumps on his stool, feeling sweat trickle down his back already. It’s gonna be a tough gig, he can feel it, all his tension, and the heat. He flicks his hair out of his eyes, letting himself sneak another glance side of stage, but Rian’s gone. Ashton feels relieved just as much as he does disappointed.


End file.
